Figure it Out, Please
by remonrime
Summary: There's tension between Butters and Kenny, but Butters doesn't see it-- at all. So what happens when Butters catches Kenny having sex in the supply closet? Kenny goes on a rampage and Butters lives out his days scared stiff. BUNNY.
1. Confusion is Gay

**Figure it Out, Please.**

_Please read, enjoy, and leave a review!_

**Chapter One: Confusion is Gay.**

"Oh, hamburgers!"

Leopold Butters Stotch stared down fretfully with wide quivering eyes, a jagged rip running right across the turquoise fabric of his button-up shirt. He let his lips take on a small and puckered frown; his belly button was showing.

He hadn't noticed the tear before, but now, as the students in front and behind him were filing out of school to get to their warm and cozy homes, a slight wind had brushed against his skin and alerted him of the unfortunate snare. Butters turned his head from side to side, pale blond hair shuffling over his eyes in a messy heap. It would be quite embarrassing if the other students were to brush their eyes over his vulnerable belly button; just thinking about it made Butters want to blush like mad.

"Ahh, shucks," he mumbled to himself, hanging his head dejectedly. With a defeated sigh and a sarcastic smile to his lips, Butters continued his weary way down the school pathway, each footstep leading closer to home. His eyes brightened and his smile stretched even wider when he spotted the figures of four teenage boys off in the distance, laughing and ranting to each other in normal, boyish fashion.

As Butters drew near, he could hear each of their distinctive voices; Cartman's rough and rowdy one, Kyle's high pitched and passionate voice, Stan's low and rushed out babble and Kenny's husky and drawled out tone. Butters didn't have the time to actually listen to each of their conversations, but the sound of their voices was enough to sedate him until he was standing right in front of them, a giddy smile painted haphazardly upon his lips.

"Fucking Jew!" Cartman snapped, a meaty finger pointing at Kyle.

"Who's fucking a Jew?" Kenny asked lazily, a faint smile ghosting his lips as his eyes traveled over from Kyle to Stan. Cartman jerked his head towards Kenny's direction, shooting the poor fool a wonky glare and a tight lipped expression.

"That faggot over there!" Cartman shot out, sticking the middle finger up at the curly red-headed Jew, who was currently fuming out his ears and trembling ferociously out of anger. Stan was by his side, his hand placed on Kyle's shoulder in hopes of calming him down, but to no avail.

"Why, hey fellas!" Butters welcomed warmly, his hands waving out in front of him. Cartman suddenly stopped his Jewish-related insults and snapped his eyes to the happy-go-lucky being that was Butters. Cartman snuffed indignantly at him and furrowed his brow.

"Piss off, fag!" he snapped, making Butters momentarily tremble. Cartman then brushed Butters off with a haughty flick of his middle finger before returning his attention back to the flustered Jew. Butters stood there, not fully comprehending what had just happened, but a smile graced his face nonetheless. Sometimes he couldn't understand Cartman, but there was no sense in trying to figure him out; Butters would rather go about life without having to comprehend inappropriate things that people often tended to say to him.

Aware that someone was watching him, Butters turned to the side and flashed a perky smile at the orange-clad Kenny, whose hoody was currently down and revealing the shaggy and unmanageable corn-colored mass that was his hair. His blue eyes twinkled mischievously, as they always did, and his smile was stretched into more of a smirk, gracing his facial features with a sort of impish elegance. Butters stared at the boy, his eyes blinking a mile per minute, until Kenny finally averted his attention elsewhere.

"Dude, can we fucking go home now?" Kenny asked tiredly, running his fingers through his scraggly hair. He turned to Cartman and squinted his eyes into what seemed to be a carefully hidden glare, but what looked along the lines of a playful squint.

"Fucking fat-ass, stop calling me that!" Kyle raged, his cheeks turning a bright pink color.

"Dude, Kyle, calm down man, it's just Cartman," Stan reprimanded, patting Kyle's shoulder desperately. Kyle turned to Stan like a deadly nuclear missile, his fingers fisted at his side.

"Calm down, how the hell am I supposed to fucking calm down?!" Kyle shouted, his teeth gritting together. "I can't just fucking stand here and let that fat-ass insult me like that, like hell would I just stand around and listen to him spew that shit!"

"Oh look guys, Kyle's got sand in his vagina again. God, Kahl, what the hell's got your panties in a twist? Can't take a couple of jokes, just like your fucking fat-ass mom--."

"God dammit!" Kyle nearly screamed, his eyes quivering with passionate rage. He hated it when Cartman brought his mother into their arguments; it absolutely pissed him off to the extreme.

Despite all the tension that had been haplessly strung together between the boys, the sound of a lighter silenced the entire group, rendering them stiff and silent. They all turned to Kenny, including Butters, and watched him with curious eyes as he casually lighted his cigarette with a purple lighter. He then brought the flimsy stick to his lips and took a long drag from it before he puffed it back out in a swift breath.

"What?" he asked them softly, noticing their intense stares on his person. He smirked, taking another drag from the cigarette and letting the smoke escape from his lips like trapped tufts of cloud. The white, wispy smoke billowed around him, the gritty smell of nicotine clouding the air like a strong, addicting perfume.

"Look dudes, I'm gonna' go home now," he said crisply, taking another puff from his cigarette. "I'll see you fags later." He then strode over towards Butters with such speed that Butters had not even noticed him until Kenny slung his arm over Butters' shoulder in a casual manner. Fortunately, the rest of the group was too busy insulting each other to notice what Kenny had done, and stayed that way even when Kenny and Butters were long gone, their steady paces directing them out of school grounds and onto free pavement. Once they were safely away from the three babbling idiots, Kenny immediately dropped his arm from around Butters' shoulder and let it drop to his side in a swift fashion.

Meanwhile, Butters was too busy fidgeting where he stood, his hand rubbing at the nape of his neck in a flustered way. He had no clue why Kenny had flung his arm around him, but he was glad nonetheless; he didn't think he could take anymore of Kyle and Cartman's vulgar disputes.

"Gee, thanks Kenny!" he beamed, flashing his brightest smile, but when he opened his eyes, Kenny was gone. Butters shifted his weight to his other foot, blinking his eyes in astonishment. Kenny was nowhere to be found and Butters was still marveling at his amazing high-speed escapes.

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

It was all unfamiliar to him.

The sheets were too stiff, the pillows not fluffy enough, and the smell was definitely not something that he recognized.

Kenny McCormick sat up in a groggy daze, his heart racing a mile per minute and his brain still stuck on off-mode. He looked around slowly, blinking his eyes in a sleepy haze, and stretched his limbs, opening his mouth in a long and drawled out yawn.

"Morning sexy."

Kenny stared down at the slender brunette currently draped around his naked waist, her long hair fanning out over his lean stomach. She was smiling seductively up at him, her full lips as smooth as silk. She batted her eyelashes at him before trailing a series of sultry patterns around his navel, all the while kissing his abdomen tenderly.

Kenny on the other hand didn't care less about what she was doing to him. He blinked his eyes one more time in alertness and suavely slid away from her, flashing her one of his stunning, God-like smiles so as to not discourage her. To discourage a customer would mean that he would actually lose the customer itself.

"Sorry, but I have another appointment," he cooed to her, ruffling his dirty-blond hair until it stuck up about his head in every direction. "But if you ever need me again, hit me up." She pouted at him, but it was quickly replaced by a dazzling smile, a smile that showed how much she thoroughly enjoyed his offer.

"Hell yes I will," she responded, plopping herself back down onto her own pillow and spreading the blankets over her naked form. "Like hell would I miss a chance to tap that fucking ass."

"I'm only here to deliver babe," he responded in perfect sequence, getting up from the bed where he then proceeded to gather up his belongings. He pranced about her room until he finally found his infamous orange hoody, draping it over his shoulder as he pulled on his jean pants and draped his red shirt over his chest. Kicking on his shoes and pulling the hoody over his head, he turned back and gave the girl another trademark smile, biting his lip to add emphasis. She licked her lips in response, rubbing the pads of her fingers over the bed sheets.

The customer was indeed here to stay.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was a crisp Saturday morning.

The birds were chirping soundly in their nests, the trees were whistling dazzling morning tunes as the wind passed them by, and somewhere in some part of the redneck town that was South Park, Butters was sitting under a tree, a spindle of thread in one hand and a sharp needle in the other.

"Lu lu lu," he sing-songed, threading the string in and out of his ripped button-up shirt. He was currently fixated on mending his precious shirt ever since his parents had seen the rip and threatened to ground him if he didn't get it repaired soon. He was momentarily ripped from his euphoric state when something whizzed past him with a flurry of speed. He looked up and his eyes brightened.

"Why hey Kenny!" he shouted at the retreating figure of orange and blue. Kenny halted in his tracks and turned around cautiously, as if getting caught for a hit and run accident, but once his eyes landed on Butters (who currently looked like a house-wife mending her husband's clothes) he immediately dropped his guard and flashed the innocent boy a hasty glare.

"What the fuck are you doing Butters?" Kenny asked sharply.

"I'm mending my shirt, would you like to see--?"

"Whatever dude," Kenny barked out and sped off down the street, his form growing smaller and smaller until Butters could no longer see him anymore.

"Hm?" Butters whimpered, shrugging his shoulders. With a shake of his head and a blink of his eyes, he continued to his work. He needed to repair the shirt by the time he went home, or else his mother and father would ground him for sure. He sure wished God had graced him the speed that Kenny had, or else he would have been done a long time ago.

"ARGH! Jesus!"

Butters jerked so hard that he accidentally pricked his index finger with the needle, a small swell of blood pooling out from the tiny injury.

"Craig! S-stop! Argh!"

"Fucking Christ, Tweek, calm down, it's not like I'm going to rape you."

Butters looked up at the looming figures of Craig Tucker and Tweek Tweak, holding hands rather chaotically and seemingly trying to walk down the sidewalk without having Tweek jerk out into one of his many caffeine-induced spasms or ADD related symptoms. By the look on Craig's frustrated face, they were having a rather difficult time trying to stay low-key.

"Heya Craig, Tweek!" Butters chirped up at them, rubbing his bleeding finger on his thigh. Craig stared down at Butters with a critical eye and flipped him off, before turning his head away and focusing on the spasming boy beside him. "Fuck, Tweek."

"Gah! Oh man, I can't handle this anymore! Jesus, too much pressure―argh!" Tweek managed to mumble before blinking his eyes chaotically and jerking his hand so hard that Craig practically flew into the street.

"What's wrong with Tweek?" Butters asked concerned, placing his needle and thread gently on the grass. Craig snapped his head towards Butters and squinted his eyes in what seemed to be a glare.

"He's too fucking paranoid on PDA," he grit out through his teeth, holding Tweek's hand in place by his side so that the trembling teenager wouldn't cause futher damage.

"PDA?" Butters asked genuinely, cocking his head to the side.

"Jesus, Butters, don't you know anything?" Craig bit out, rolling his eyes out of impatience. "Public Display of Affection?"

"Oh," Butters said simply, puckering his lips in thought. "Why would he be paranoid...oh, oh hamburgers, you guys are holding hands!" As realization suddenly dawned on him, Butters' eyes widened and he placed his hands to his face in shock. Why were Craig and Tweek holding hands in the first place, wasn't it supposed to be an evil sin between the same gender?! Butters shook his head from side to side, thinking up of all the possible consequences that would result by his being seen with the two hand-holders. "Why are you guys holding hands?!"

Craig drew his lips into a tight line and squinted his eyes maliciously, squeezing Tweek's hand and bringing the spazzing boy close to his side. He then licked his lips and fired snappishly, "What's it to you?"

Butters stared at the two, his mind too far-gone to comprehend anything. Why were they holding hands?

"You guys should quit that!" Butters warned them fretfully, his eyes quivering and hands shaking in his lap. Craig immediately flipped out his finger and huffed angrily, shooting a wad of spit to the ground.

"We can hold hands if we want to, right Tweek?" Craig asked, shooting a warning glare at said boy.

"Ack! Jesus Christ!" Tweek responded, shaking his head from side to side. "Argh! Craig, I didn't want to do this in the first place, you made me! Argh! We can do it at home, not here!" By now, Tweek was shaking uncontrollably, his eyes scanning the expanse of streets while his eyes twitched every so often.

Butters was still at a loss. He finally took in a deep breath of air and calmed himself; he needed to gather up enough courage to ask them what he so desperately wanted to ask them.

"A-are you guys...h-homo-homosexuals?" he stuttered, staring up at them in both mortification and awe.

"Who the fuck cares, dude, so what if we are?" Craig spat, fire dancing in his eyes. "What, you gonna' tell on us?"

"No, not that!" Tweek screamed.

"Gosh, no!" Butters exclaimed, holding his hands out in front of him in defense. "It's just, it's so confusing. I-I...don't know what to say!"

Craig looked down at Butters, tilting his head in observation. He then brought out his middle finger and flicked it at him. "Don't bother saying anything, we're leaving. Come on Tweek."

And with that, the two boys left, Craig practically dragging Tweek down the street as they headed towards town.

_**TBC...**_

_More of Kenny will be in the next chapter._

_Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed. _

_Leave a review please?_

_-Sesshyfanchick_


	2. Believing in the Supply Closet

**Figure it Out, Please.**

_Please read, enjoy, and drop a review!_

**Chapter Two: Believing in the Supply Closet.**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park in any way, shape, or form. Matt and Trey do, those ass-hole licker dick farts.**_

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

"Fuck."

Kenny plopped himself down onto the edge of the curb, his fingers gliding about the pavement as he continued to pick up the loose change that he had accidentally dropped from his pocket. He held a cigarette in one hand and continued to pick up the coins in the other. All the while his blond hair was in his face, making him frustrated as his vision became blurred.

"Mother fucker," he cursed to himself, picking up the last of the coins. He was supposed to use that change to get a damn soda from the liquor store, but unfortunately, his stupid ass had to drop them all, thus losing a few nickels and dimes in the process. "Shit."

He stuffed the remaining coins inside the front pocket of his parka, his fingers remaining in the warm confines of his jacket. He brought his cigarette back to his mouth, taking a long drag from it, and released the swarm of swirling smoke from his parted lips. A good smoke did wonders for him.

"Oh, fiddle-sticks."

Kenny tweaked his head, peering around his shoulder indifferently as he spotted Butters walking behind him, passing by a multitude of tiny shops littering the streets. His head was down and his hands were bunched up in his pale yellow hair, his fingers digging into the scalp. His expression looked troubled and his brow was set in deep concentration; Kenny had no idea what was bugging the poor guy, and he really didn't care for that matter.

"Why would they even want to do that in public!" Kenny heard Butters mutter to himself, shaking his head in disagreement. "Why? W-wouldn't they get in trouble? Oh, hey Kenny."

Kenny perked up at the mention of his name, for he had turned his attention away from Butters and onto the curvaceous form of Bebe Stevens. He licked his lips in aroused hunger, taking another drag from his cigarette to calm himself.

"Kenny, can I ask you something?"

Kenny nearly jumped a mile. He turned his head to the side and found Butters seated next to him on the curb, biting his lip and quivering his eyes. Kenny didn't really know what to say to him, other than "fuck off", but he didn't have the heart to say it, because really, Butters looked like a real mess.

"Make it quick," Kenny shot out, turning his head away in disdain. He really didn't want to be seen talking to Butters-- to do so would ruin his reputation. He couldn't be seen hanging around with sissy little pussies like Butters Stotch. Kenny was known by all of South Park's citizens that he only went for the intractable and developed type when it came to picking out costumers, otherwise known as: **experienced people**. Seeing Butters beside him would surely lower his stats. He frankly didn't care for the boy that much either; they were never really friends to begin with.

"I'm not going to say names, but, gosh, I'm really confused right now," Butters started, fiddling his fingers in his lap. "I saw two guys holding hands today! I-I...I know these people too! I couldn't believe it."

Butters picked his head up from his prior dejected position, waiting for Kenny to respond or perhaps even give him some advice, but Butters found that his chances were low. Kenny was too busy staring ahead at something, licking his lips in impatience.

"Kenny, d-did you hear me?" Butters questioned. Kenny suddenly snapped his head towards Butters, his eyes set in an unexpected feral glare.

"So what if they were holding hands," he hissed softly, throwing his cigarette to the ground. "Just because you're innocent, doesn't mean that everyone else is. Fuck off dude." With that, Kenny got up from the ground and stormed off, drawing his hoody over his head. Butters simply stared after him, wondering what he did wrong. He was hoping to get some few settling answers from Kenny, but that idea just blew up in his face. Was anything going to make sense to him anymore?

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

Kenny didn't need to deal with ignorant people like Butters. He didn't need to explain anything to him or give him any advice for that matter-- he was a slut, not a therapist.

"Fucking Butters," Kenny cursed under his breath, kicking a lone pebble on the ground. The pebbled skidded across the pavement and crash landed into a nearby pile of grass clippings. It was _**his**_ Saturday, he didn't need to be feeling frustrated. The only reason he was feeling fidgety was because right after he had left that brunette girl to make it to his next appointment (some skimpy blond that lived on the nicer side of South Park), she had canceled on him, and get this, he was already at her front door when she told him the bad news. The least she could have done was call him ahead of time so that he didn't have to go around wasting his fucking time losing his change, sitting on cracked curbs, and listening to Butters confused mutterings on gay people.

"Hey Kenny."

Kenny immediately perked up at the sound of his name, because not only was it in fact his name, but the way it was said...

"Busy right now?" Bebe asked slowly, walking towards him with a horde of shoe bags hanging from both her elbows. "I'm really tired and I could use a little bit of, well, you know. Get my drift? I have the cash here and now to make things easier." She smiled seductively at him, licking her soft pink lips that were coated with tons upon tons of lip gloss. This only sent lusty sensations straight to Kenny's dick and he couldn't wait to say yes. Hell, he loved it when he collected money on the weekends. Of course, being the professional businessman that he was, he didn't let any of those erotic emotions show on his face, and he finally answered her with a cool and sultry, "Anytime, anywhere babe."

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

Mondays were always enjoyable for innocent little Butters. To him, it was a start of a new day, the start of a new week, the start of new smiles and cheerful attitudes.

"Heya Clyde!" Butters chirped brightly.

"Fuck off Butters," Clyde shot back, walking away stiffly with Token Black trailing behind him. Butters nearly ran into the lockers beside him, but nonetheless continued his leisurely walk before school hours. He always liked to do this on Mondays: he would get up extra early, eat a quick breakfast, and go to school thirty minutes before the bell rang just so that he could take the time to walk around and admire the crisp morning atmosphere. Today wasn't any different; he didn't know why people always seemed to "fuck him off", but Butters was a happy person and he took it as a sign of their paying attention to him, however that worked out.

Just as he was about to enjoy the morning mountain air, his happy thoughts crumbled into a grainy heap of left over ashes. Ahead of him were the two people that plagued his thoughts like the Black Death all weekend long without so much as an ounce of private time to himself: Craig and Tweek.

"Hey, f-fellas," Butters greeted them, trying his best to sound cheerful and to not sound like a demented loser who couldn't get his words out straight. Unfortunately, Butters had already been labeled that. To his gratification, they weren't holding hands.

"Hey," Craig replied lamely, ruffling his black hair so that it mussed over his head like a storm cloud.

"Hey Butters. Argh!" Tweek greeted as well, his head smashing into the locker next to him. The loud crash reverberated off the remaining lockers and caused many heads to turn, before they averted their focus back to their own ministrations once they found that Tweek was the one to blame; they were not surprised. Craig turned to the jittering boy and blushed out of embarrassment; he wasn't prepared to handle Tweek's spazzes this early in the morning.

"Um, how was the PDA?" Butters suddenly asked, snapping his eyes away from them. Craig tilted his head and let a wry smirk grace his lips, his eyes shining like cobalt.

"It went well, right Tweeky?" he responded, flipping his head to look at Tweek.

"Gah! No, it was horrible! People kept on staring at us! Argh!" Tweek explained through multiple trembles, his eyes twitching like a grasshopper's legs. "Jesus-- Craig, don't ever make me do that again man! Ngh!"

Butters stared at the two with a critical eye, his nerves still standing on end. He didn't know why the thought of them holding hands bugged him so much, but he wasn't going to ask himself that-- he couldn't. It was best that he just forget the matter entirely and go about his happy life without his thoughts straying to Craig and Tweek and their business together.

"Why aren't you holding hands right now?" Butters asked warily, scratching his chin. Craig turned to Butters, squinting his eyes and letting out a deep sigh, as if hating what he was about to say.

"School's off limits," he explained hurriedly, shifting his weight to the side. "Tweek wouldn't be able to concentrate on his studies if I did that."

Just then, the sound of the bell ripped through the hallways, causing each boy to jump at its loudness. Tweek crashed into the lockers again.

"Geezus dude, you're gonna' fucking kill yourself," Craig reprimanded Tweek, punching his best friend in the shoulder. Butters quickly scurried away from the two, his books in his hands and his book-bag trailing behind him. He didn't understand Craig and Tweek's relationship, but he was starting to form a concept, even though that concept wasn't entirely formed out yet.

"Hamburgers...."

**!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

"Butters, would you be a dear and go take the TV back to the supply closet? Here's the keys," Mrs. Pearum asked politely, walking over towards Butters' desk and plopping the set of keys in front of him. He nodded up at her and collected his things, strapping his book-bag around his shoulder before he said his final goodbyes to his teacher. She dismissed him with a nod of her head while he went to the front of the room, grabbed hold of the mobile TV cart, and dragged it to the classroom door. Usually, teachers weren't allowed to let students out before the bell rang, but school had ended two hours and thirty minutes ago and he was just here for Driver's ED (the staff didn't care if students in night school were let out early or not).

Humming happily to himself, Butters strolled the cart across the campus, weaving in through narrow hallways and passing by left-over teachers who had yet to go home. Butters never understood why teachers left school so late, wasn't it killer for them?

"Good thing I don't want to be a teacher," he reassured himself, his fingers fiddling with the wires hooked to the back of the TV. "Finally, the 300 building, I made it!" He flipped his cellphone out of his pocket and quickly checked the time. It was still ten minutes until six so he had plenty of time to stash away the TV cart and make it safely out of campus without a staff member telling him to go all the way back to night school.

As he dragged the TV cart down the hallway, the supply closet loomed nearer and nearer, and finally, he was standing right outside of it, keys dangling in his hands and eager to get the darn door open so that he could make a hasty retreat. However, just as he was about to jam the key into the lock, a startling noise coming from inside the closet made him halt in his tracks. The sounds coming from inside were muffled, quick, and rather odd and Butters couldn't help but cock his head to the side and furrow his brow as he tried to place the sounds with visual images. In the end, nothing came to mind, and he decided that ultimately, he needed to put the cart away or else he would get in trouble. He sure hoped there wasn't some rabid beast in there; he hated it when animals just darted out and scared the living crap out of you.

With a shaky breath and trembling hands, Butters very slowly and quietly pushed the key into the lock and turned it in one swift motion. With that, he grabbed hold of the door knob and yanked it open. With a gasp and a yelp, Butters dropped the supply keys, where they clashed to the floor in a metallic clang of sounds.

"Butters, what the fuck are you doing?! Shut the fucking door!"

Butters inched back, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, he couldn't even begin to comprehend it! Was he dreaming, was this all a terrible, terrible dream? Butters shook his head once, then twice, and found that no, he wasn't dreaming at all.

Kenny McCormick was glaring murderous daggers at Butters, his lips twisted up into a feral snarl. His blue eyes shone with such a blinding force that the supply closet practically lit up with light, revealing the two ensnared bodies that were entwined together rather impossibly.

Wendy Testaburger was currently pressed up against the wall, her naked legs spread open while Kenny's body was wedged in between them. Their hair was all mussed and sticking in every direction, too wild and uncontrollable to decipher which belonged to which, despite the blatant color contrasts. Butters couldn't believe it one bit-- Kenny McCormick and Wendy Testaburger were having sex, until Butters decided to rudely intrude in their love making.

"Oh gosh!" Butters exclaimed, pressing his hands to his face. "K-Kenny, I'm so sorry! I didn't know that you guys were in there, honest--!"

"Just you fucking wait!" Kenny spat, removing himself from Wendy's legs and bending down to gather his pants. Butters watched as Kenny began to pull the jeans up his thighs, his fingers fumbling with the zipper as he hurriedly tried to get it up.

And Butters booked it.

_**TBC...**_

_Thank you for reading once again! Please leave a review if you can._

_-Sesshyfanchick_


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